Jean And Marco, Kissin' In A Tree
by Lennonion
Summary: Marco likes Jean - no, I take that back. He's fucking infatuated with him, and he has been for years. He confesses in their little hideaway which just so happens to be inside Jean's old treehouse. Away from everyone else. In privacy. Do you know what that means? Maybe it means a little more than just kissing in a tree. (previously posted as StrawberryFeels on AO3)


"Jean.. I can't freaking believe you conned me into doing this. You're crazy." Marco sighed as his best friend pushed him further into the rather narrow entering. The two nearly grown men were inside Jean's old treehouse, being fools like in the golden days. They were almost ready to venture out into the real world, but it was true - they both really were dorky kids at heart.

"Well, that's me, Marco. You should know that I'm a crazy bastard by now. After all, you've had enough time to get to know me. Right?" Jean smirked, finally plopping down on the floor and sitting with his knees pressed to his chest, right next to Marco. God knows how many childhood friends had been in and out of the thing. It's a wonder they still managed to fit in the hidden place. The treehouse had become one of Jean's relics as he had grown older. His parents wanted to take it down because they definitely weren't expecting any more kids, but he protested with all his might and they had no choice but to give in. Little did they know, they still had a kid at heart who was up in his treehouse right now.

"Look at all this stuff..." Marco peered around the dim area, up at all the old band and movie posters, and even at some of the drawings they had made as kids. Luckily, Jean had been brought up the right way so he had fabulous taste in music. He listened to anything from The Beatles to Weezer to really anything that was given to him to indulge in. He was tempted to go get his little old guitar, but decided that he didn't want to overwhelm Marco with all of the nostalgia just yet.

"Man, I miss the good old days. I just want to go back, even though it wasn't that long ago." Jean reminisced.

"Yeah, ditto..." Marco looked down at his shoes, recalling something that had happened long ago. It was a horrible stormy day, and they had brought plenty of board games up to the treehouse. Both had planned to spend most of the day in there having a blast, except things didn't go according to plan. Accidentally, Marco had tripped and landed, well,_ on _Jean. They had been caught in an awkward position for what felt like ages, and then Jean did the most unexpected thing. He pulled his best friend into a hug and they remained that way for the longest time as the rain poured on their little shelter.

"Did you get lost in the memories? Earth to Marco!" Jean chuckled, placing a hand in front of his best friend's face and snapping his fingers a few times.

"O-Oh, yeah.. Sorry!" Marco laughed rather uneasily and avoided making eye contact for a while. His face must have went from pale and freckled to as red as a tomato.

"Jeez, you must have been caught in a moment of deep concentration there. Do you need a minute? Not to mention, your face is turning kinda red too..." The brunette flashed him that signature look that meant that he knew something was up, and was inevitably going to play along and milk the situation to the best of his ability. In other words, he was planning to bust Marco's chops to find out what was really on his mind.

"Jean, don't frustrate me like that! I know my face is red, a-and.. I.." The freckled boy started to speak, but trailed off.

"You what? Can't you talk? Oh my god, I bet you're remembering that girl. What was her name? Petunia? No, it was _Petra_." Jean said, flashing him a sly smirk. Truthfully, Marco's frustration had absolutely nothing to do with a girl. It had to do with a guy, and that guy just so happened to be conveniently sitting right next to him. If only he could just grow the balls to fess up to Jean like he had intended to so many years ago. The determination was there and the butterflies were prominent, but nerves seemed to get the best of Marco every time he thought of hinting something to his unrequited love. If someone pushed his buttons enough, he could melt into this timid puddle of goo. What went on in his mind was a different story. He would love to take control and kiss Jean all over _and-_

Oh great, another memory was creeping up on him. What a perfect time for stupid flashbacks to flood his mind. He remembered that time in junior high when the school was selling flowers for Valentine's Day. Kids had the option to pick from an assortment of colors, and Marco decided to pick red of course, just because it was fitting. And because it symbolized love most of all. The best part about the situation was that Jean didn't have to know who the valentine came from. He would be left to wonder for eternity unless someone fessed up, because nothing was required in the 'From' box. Marco only needed to specify who the flower was being sent to. The sneaky rascal slipped the little paper into the box at last minute without being noticed.

Sure enough, later that day, he had run into Jean in their last period class. The lone flower rested on his desk as he scribbled away at his notebook. Lots of kids made fun of him for having the gift that symbolized love because he didn't have a girlfriend. Eren even went as far to accuse him of sending it to himself, and Marco knew that obviously wasn't true. He regretted not saying a word as he saw Jean rush out of the class and hop onto the bus. He must have been humiliated because no one even bothered to confess. _Damn it Marco, you really should have said something. Why are you such a clueless idiot when it comes to romance? You're no Don Juan, but you certainly wouldn't be in this situation right now if you had just fessed up like a normal person,_ the boy bickered with his conscience. Except this time around in the treehouse, it wasn't really a crush. It was something much stronger than that, and Marco could feel it in his chest. It was even a bit intimidating.

Enough courage finally built up inside him, and he finally said, "No, Jean. It's not Petra... It.. It's you."

A wave of relief swept over him, but at the same time, there was the doubt that was eating away at his mind. What if Jean didn't feel the same way?_ What a joke. If only Marco was aware of the way his best friend looked at him when he wasn't paying attention. What an oblivious doofus. _

Still, to unknowing Marco, there were an endless amount of what-ifs. What if he had just ruined their friendship forever? What if Jean never wanted to talk to him again? He wasn't cold-hearted like that, but the idea was overwhelming and frightening. It frightened him so much that his heart began to pound in his chest.

"Marco.. Uhh.. Are you being serious with me?" Jean asked, trying to peer into the nervous doe's eyes as he hid and covered his face.

"Did I ruin us with what I just said, Jean? Because we can pretend none of this happened, and just move on and never speak of it again-"

"No, Marco. This might sound weird... How am I going to say this? I don't know, but I've been feeling the same way. I sort of always have. I was always jealous of the girls that would flirt with you in the neighborhood, y'know? I.. was just scared to say anything about it. You know how people get when we talk about that stuff anyways.. It's taboo. I mean, if they saw you and me together. And our parents think of us as just extremely close friends.. But don't worry, you didn't ruin it. Trust me." The younger boy explained, resting his hand on Marco's shoulder in a reassuring way.

"So you're not mad? Our friendship is still intact?" Marco finally looked up and glanced at those amber eyes that had never changed even after all these years.

"Why would I have a reason to be mad? You're Marco. So no.. Not at all." Jean smiled, a slight blush beginning to appear on his face.

"That's a relief.. And you're Jean. That's why I fell for you. You're something else, that's for sure." The ebony-haired boy let out something akin to a giggle and rested his own hand on his best friend's. "So what now?" He asked, smiling like a giddy child who had just won a prize from one of those crane machines, except Jean wasn't as fluffy. Either way, he'd do.

Something was different about Jean's expression now. His eyes were half-lidded, and he leaned in almost automatically. Before pressing his lips to Marco's, he whispered a soft "This." The older boy was shocked at first, but relaxed into the kiss as he realized what was actually happening. His chest was filled with warmth: he'd wanted this for such a long time, and it felt nice to finally act out the scene that had been stuck on replay in his head for so long. It wasn't a fantasy anymore. Now he could finally touch Jean. One hand came up to caress his soft skin, and the other one now had a tight grasp on his hand.

After remaining that way for a while and just enjoying the simple fact that their lips had touched, they pulled away from each other and started to laugh like fools in love. There was no denying that they had a bad case of the mushy gushies. Both had gone moon-eyed. When the giddiness subsided, Marco made the next move and crawled over and into Jean's lap so that he was now straddling the boy, beginning to plant little butterfly kisses down his jawline until he finally reached his collarbone. Jean bit his lip to stop himself from making noise. Marco thought he looked really sexy that way.

"Know how long I've wanted to do that for? Your skin is so soft... You're gorgeous.." He lifted Jean's chin up with his finger, and the boy responded not with a sound, but by pulling Marco into a heated kiss. Pink muscles clashed, and Marco began to suck on his bottom lip. He then made his way to Jean's earlobe, nibbling it and whispering sweet nothings as the space between them was eliminated.

Jean's hands found their way, crawling up Marco's shirt and taking in the warmth of his skin with his fingertips. Without a word, it was removed and discarded somewhere irrelevant in the enclosed space. The younger was pinned to the floor as he was straddled again, and Marco roughly nipped at his delicate collarbone. This would surely leave a bunch of marks for Jean to worry about taking care of after their little rendezvous, but they were too caught up in the heat of the moment to think about something as miniscule as that. Both wanted each other desperately, and Marco honestly didn't care at this point if people made fun of Jean because he had a few hickeys. He wasn't going to quit now, no matter how bizarre it seemed for a boy like him. He wanted it to be known that Jean was his. This was, after all, years and years of pent-up lust and mixed feelings being exchanged in hitched breaths, and through the friction between their jeans.

"Do you want me to, Jean?" Marco asked, smirking as he teasingly stroked the boy's clothed erection.

Jean let out a gasp, and managed to stifle a response. "F-Fuck yes.."

Sounds of more clothes being hastily removed filled the room, and the pile of discarded garments was added to. Without another word, Marco began to pump him, capturing his lips in another kiss in efforts to hush the mewls. After that, he pulled away, and Jean pouted at the loss of the feeling of his lover's lips on his. He missed the new feeling of Marco's hands on him, but then the thing that would send shivers down his spine happened. Jean's cock was taken in by a warm, wet mouth, as he closed his eyes and his breath quickened.

"Ahh.. Marco.." He let out a moan as his fingers curled in a jet black head of hair. Marco's tongue was working. It seemed to turn him into a horny mess effortlessly.

After licking up and down the shaft, Marco took his member in as far as it would go and stroked the parts he couldn't reach. He began to bob up and down, and with his free hand, he gave Jean's thigh a squeeze. Damn, those porcelain thighs. They were soft and tight and just one of the many perfect things that made Jean who he was. Marco loved the way his tight pants hugged his thighs and ass, and now he actually had the chance to touch them instead of ogling from afar. His own cock twitched with excitement as he imagined what it would feel like to be inside Jean and make him scream. These thoughts seemed to consume his mind as they had on so many nights that he had spent alone in his room. They were so raunchy and naughty, and it was so unlike him. Jean was the only one that could turn a sweetheart like Marco into such a monster.

He looked up at Jean with those innocent (but really, not-so-innocent) dark brown eyes, and this made the latter want to thrust into the back of his throat. He resisted the urge, and instead let Marco bring him to the edge over and over again, only to look up at him with that shit-eating grin. Along with the thighs, another thing that turned Marco on was seeing Jean in such a flustered state where he couldn't think properly. He loved the needy look and bedroom eyes that just screamed 'I'm all yours'.

Finally, the impatience was noticed in Jean's eyes and the tease below him showed some mercy. Marco finished him off with one last hard suck, as the salty-sweet liquid filled his mouth. He looked up at Jean with a wink and swallowed, licking his lips in an alluring way. As if he couldn't be any more of a minx. Some more love bites were shared, and it took the younger boy a moment to settle back into reality and come down from his high. He was panting, and a thin layer of sweat coated his forehead. A few strands of hair even stuck to his face.

"Jean, now it's your turn. Suck." Marco ordered, pressing his index and middle finger to the brunette's mouth, and he tenderly kissed the digits before taking them in. Jean made sure those fingers were coated with a thick amount of spit, because he knew how this worked. Sure, it was his first time trying something like this with someone else, but it wasn't like Jean hadn't done his research on these kinds of things. He wasn't a complete prude. He was pulled in for another passionate kiss as his entrance was traced with wet fingers.

Jean let out a cry as he was fingered for the first time in a long while. On a few nights, he had been ambitious and attempted to pleasure himself in that way, but nothing could compare to the touch of someone else. Especially when it was Marco. When the thoughts of his best friend ravishing his body filled his mind, it was all too much. Just thinking about it never failed to get him hard, let alone make him blush.

"Fuck, right there.." He whined, clinging to Marco as fingers brushed enticingly up against that one spot deep inside him.

_Now is the time_, the freckled boy decided through instincts. He unsheathed his fingers from the latter male and unzipped his trousers. Slicking his hard member with some more spit, he motioned for Jean to come closer and sit on his lap. He seemed to be a little intimidated by Marco's size, but was reassured with a few loving kisses as he lowered himself.

"Don't be nervous, Jean. You want this, right?" Marco whispered as he snaked his arms around his lover's waist.

Jean answered his question with a soft hum and by nodding as he buried his face in Marco's chest. As he did this, he took in that familiar musky smell that could only belong to none other than his lover. He focused on his breathing and the steady sound of heartbeats. After a while of getting accustomed to being stretched out a bit, he finally started to move. Soon, his breaths and whimpers were the only sound that filled Marco's ears.

Jean's grip on the nape of his neck tightened as he was thrust into. Marco tried to find that one spot within him that would cause him to melt, and with a little bit of effort, he did just that.

"Damn... Don't stop, Marco.."

He was urged to continue, and he gladly obeyed. Jean was so fucking tight, and it felt so good around his cock. Jean's hips would come down as Marco bucked into him with everything he had. They both could feel their breath quickening and their hearts beating a lot faster within their chests. Everything else around them started to fade away as the only things they had were each other.

"Jean.. Tell me how much you want me to fuck you." Marco said as a small smirk spread across his face. He flipped them over, changing positions and causing the other male to lie flat on his back. His legs were spread and he was exposed. He wore that desperate look well, and if Marco had the chance he would have damn well snapped a picture.

"You fucking bastard. Please... I'm pretty sure you know how much I want this." Jean bit his lip, and what could his other half do? That inviting look and those long eyelashes that suited his lust-ridden eyes so well did things to Marco. He might as well have been hypnotized. This time around when he started to fuck Jean, there was a certain kind of roughness to his ministrations. Maybe it was because of the change in position. Either way, it felt a lot better and he even found himself letting out grunts.

Jean let out a sultry cry, and he was pretty sure this was the most intense he had ever felt. He felt that heavenly buildup inside him once again. He indulged and reached down to stroke his length. Jean was close. So damn close. Marco was too, and he bit his lip so hard he thought it might bleed. He could feel his release getting nearer and nearer by the second. And then he finally came. He was left seeing stars, and panting like some kind of fucking animal. Little beads of sweat ran down his forehead as he took in the beautiful sight of the boy below him.

Jean wasn't too far behind, and the sensation of Marco's seed inside him felt oddly pleasurable. He rode out his orgasm until Marco made him come for a second time in one day.

"Marco Bodt... I think I fucking love you."

"I love you too, horseface."


End file.
